A Burning Doll House
I could see the smoke coming.
from the attic
the thing is the house of dolls
was not on fire
only the figures that once was cherished.
I put the ashes of someone’s childhood
in a box of wood.
One with golden handles.
Later did I realised that all must go
even those nearest to our heart.
Copyright © Jan Oskar Hansen | Year Posted 2019
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